


I've Bean There

by jadedglitter331



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Coffee Shops, Complete As Is, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Avengers, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Humor, Nick Fury Knows All, Original Character(s), Protective Avengers, Protective Nick Fury, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Universe Alteration, Xavier Institute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-05-01 13:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14521569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedglitter331/pseuds/jadedglitter331
Summary: There's a new coffee shop across the street from the tower, and Tony is determined to get everyone to go over and check it out.Or- another Coffee Shop AU that no one asked for, but the world is getting anyway.





	1. Morning Coffee Run

The coffee shop across the street from Avengers Tower was tiny; one of those funky hipster places with un-ironically mismatched furniture and ironic local art and weird menu items. It was also dark, and closed. But Tony wanted coffee, and Pep had formed a coalition with the rest of the team and even Rhodey to remove every coffee making device from the premises. Just because he went four or five days out of the week without sleeping didn't mean they could take away his caffeine. He was a genius, he needed it to keep the technological world on its toes and the SI suits off his back. He was also a billionaire, damnit, and it there were any person who could get a hole in the wall coffee shop open at 4:30 in the morning, it was one Tony Stark.

Surprisingly enough, he didn't even have to get his phone out before someone was unlocking the glass fronted doors. The plastic 'CLOSED' sign swung a little, and the little bell above the door let out a cheerful jingle that perfectly matched the smile the frumpy looking barista gave him. 

"Hi there! Early morning or late night?" 

Tony just stood there for a moment in a sleep deprived haze. She was wearing a ratty pair of sweats, a faded T-shirt of Einstein, and tangled curls pulled up into a bun. Cap was the only person he knew who could be this cheerful at such an hour, but he also always looked like he had come straight off the pages of a magazine too. 

"What day is it?" He couldn't remember, and it was kind of important. He had a meeting Pep would murder him for missing.

"It's Monday, the 17th. I'm guessing you want a large?" She still had that ridiculous smile on her face as she made her way around the counter to start up the machines. 

"Just the whole pot will be fine." He answered, digging up the mask he usually put on for the media. He may be a mess coming fresh from an inventing binge, but he was still Tony Stark, and since he couldn't pull off the suave billionaire at the moment, he was going to put on genius inventor. He was always charming, of course, no matter what Pepper said. 

The girl just laughed, and said something about it being unsanitary to drink straight form the spout. Or she might have said unsafe, he wasn't sure and he wasn't interested enough to ask for clarification. Instead, he decided to study the giant framed picture of the Hubble eXtreme Deep Field, and see how many galaxies he could calculate the distance to while waiting on his coffee. It was somewhat boring, but it kept his mind from going off on too many tangents during the few minuets it took to brew. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember how many he had gotten to when she sat a giant mug in front of him, but he was too in awe of the size of the cup to care. She sat down across from him, with her own boring regular sized mug, and a plate of muffins. It was like a dream come true.

Her smile turned into a bit of a smirk. "Y'know, I normally charge double for that size."

Figures she'd try to get him for his money, but that was normal, and since she'd been nice enough to open up early for him, he couldn't care less. 

"I could afford to buy this-" He said around a blueberry mound of heaven, "and turn it and you into household names."

He took a swig of his coffee- and it really was amazing, he was tempted to buy the shop now-raising an eyebrow at her. She made a disgusted face, as if the money and fame were something akin to a flaming poo bag on her doorstep. 

"I couldn't deal with that much attention," she muttered into her coffee, "and I was going to say it's on the house, since you gave me something to do at such an unholy hour of the morning."

Tony paused, muffin halfway to his mouth. "You were already here?"

She laughed. It came out easy and without malice. "I had decided to come down early and do some extra baking since I couldn't get back to sleep. I own the apartment above this along with the shop." 

So it was an early start for her, not just catering to wayward celebrities. And she owned the building. Interesting. It was a tiny, two-story thing that he couldn't actually consider a building, but she owned it. Strange, considering that it was right across the street from the tower, and hands down the most dangerous place in New York, and probably the US as a whole. 

"Why open up shop here, if you don't mind me asking?" Tony didn't really care if she minded or not. He could find out on his own why, but he was curious what she would say about it. 

She shrugged, "Good place to do it, if you don't mind the action and the repairs that come with it. Not a lo of competition, and being close to such a big business means there's a lot of people needing food and caffeine quick."

He put the muffin down, and stared at her. She stared right back, unflinching. There wasn't anything hostile in her eyes, but there was also no fear. 

"You ever think your little shop might come down on top of you?"

She leaned back in the arm chair, pulling her feet up into her lap. They were bare, and her toes were painted a bright gold. "I fully expect it to, actually. But I'm an 'enhanced individual'," she said with air quotes, "so I'll be fine. It's the decorations I have super villain insurance for." 

"I thought they just called it mutant insurance or something."

She snorted. It was very unladylike, and he thought it was amazing. He needed to get Pepper to do that during a press conference. It would be beautiful. 

"Evil yahoos are what I worry about, not people with cool talents or super heroes trying to keep the world from getting blown to hell." 

Huh. That was one he hadn't heard before. And with her being enhanced, it was a sure bet that Fury and Romonav had already checked her out. Fury let her set up shop - no pun intended, but it was very welcome- this close to the tower for a reason, and he was going to find out why. After he finished his second muffin, of course.


	2. The Meeting(s)

Tony came bright and early to the Board of Directors meeting on the 21st, meaning he was only a few minuets late, and somewhat attentive. Pepper hid her shock well, at his arrival, and continued smoothly through her overview of the meetings agenda. One of the suits started talking, and then all of them were arguing back and forth in polite business speak, and while Tony normally found the idiocy purely headache inducing, today he couldn't help but find the stupidity amusing. It might have had something with the ridiculous characture on his paper cup of the Earth half covered in war paint, but whatever. He was in a good mood, and he had already finished fixing the problems the old assholes were complaining about, so he laughed. 

He was trying to be quiet about it, he really was, but Pep didn't seem to find him snickering behind the coffee amusing. She was giving him The Stare, and trying to hold in the laughter just made him snort. He tried to cover it with a cough. 

"Something to add to this discussion, Mr. Stark?" It was one of the oldest suits, from back when Howard had still been around. He was always a snot, and his deep seated belief that he could get his share of SI money without actually pushing any papers is the only reason he hadn't been canned when Stane was ousted. His head had been too far up his ass to know what was going on. Granted, so was Tony's, but that wasn't the point.

"Just ah, that I've already fixed the battery problems on the phones, and the interfacing issues on the tablets," He said breezily, propping his feet on the table. 

The suits continued to stare at him, some in awe, and some-well, most actually- with open contempt. He took a swig of his coffee and stared them down. "I believe Ms. Potts already sent the email as of the 18th, right?" 

Pepper, smelling blood, smiled. It was a cold, gleeful thing. "It was sent to everyone on the Board at exactly 8:05AM that day, Mr. Stark." 

"Well then," He said, slapping the arms of the ridiculous stuffed armchair, "If every thing is already taken care off, I don't see what all the fuss it about." Tony stood, clapping one of the suits on the shoulder as he made his way to the door. 

"I've got some Avengers business to take care of, so I'll be leaving. Have a good day, Ms. Potts." He winked at her before closing the door, and her indulgent smile was something he would never get tired of. He still wondered what mix-up of fate brought her to him, but he was grateful. 

Back at the Tower, everyone was in the common room sitting down to lunch. It was pizza day, and the two dozen boxes had been tossed, with the greasy disks of delight were being stacked by Clint on tiered cake stands. Why did he have so many cake stands? 

Natasha stepped out of the elevator and paused, her face going into the murder mask that meant she looked perfectly calm and collected. That's why he had so many cake stands. Nat had decided to try baking with Thor. 

Clint didn't have his hearing aids in, and Nat was careful to keep out of his line of sight until she was right behind him. Tony ignored the resulting shriek, and wandered farther into the kitchen. They would be fine. Sam was sitting at the table, laughing at the two super spies over a soda. Bruce had his tea, and looked mildly amused, which was a vast improvement from the aloof and distant way he had been when they first moved in. Thor had gone to visit with Jane, and Cap and Robocop were presumably hiding out in the gym. 

Tony stopped to stand forlornly in front of the gaping emptiness on the counter, where the coffee machine used to be. Pep still had yet to rescind the tower-wide ban on coffee, and as much as he loved the I've Bean There coffee, he refused to make the trek there to get it. Maybe he could send the suit to go get it? It wasn't like she wouldn't know who it was for, everyone knew Ironman. He could give J his order and have him talk through the suit. Or maybe he could send that new drone he had been tinkering with? He hadn't really messed with the navigation controls on it yet, but he could put it through a test run, or maybe-

"Or maybe you could call and ask if they deliver."

Tony damn near came out of his skin, and it wasn't even Nat or CLint who had snuck up on him. it was Steve. 

"Quit reading my mind Capsicle, that's rude." 

"I wasn't," He said. "You were talking out loud again." 

Tony stared at him in shock. He must have been more tired than he thought, if he was talking out loud outside the safety of the lab. 

"Whatever," He sniffed. "It needs a test run anyway." 

Bruce looked at him with that careful, measured interest. "What exactly are you wanting not to have to go get?"

"There's this," Tony sat down, waving his hands around, trying to find the right words, "incredibly amazing coffee shop-" 

Here he was interrupted by more shrieking, and banging above their heads. Bruce sighed, "They're both in the vents now."  
"Anyway, There's this amazing coffee shop down across the street, and I need more coffee but I don't want to actually go over there to get it."

Everyone smiled and nodded, which was weird. He had expected them to make fun of him. Say something about him being lazy and using his money on stupid things normal people didn't need. Normal people don't send a drone to pick up coffeefrom across the street, after all. Instead, they all acted like it was...fine. As if him wanting something but not wanting to get up himself and get it were normal. 

Sam leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "I know that feeling, the other night, when I wanted some caramel popcorn for the movie? I just layed on the floor. I spent two whole hours just trying to motivate myself to get up and make the damn thing." 

Bruce snorted at that. Actually snorted. Spilled tea and everything. It even had Golden Boy cracking up. Tony laughed too, and thought that maybe, just maybe, feeling lazy didn't make him that awful of a person.


	3. Lunch Date

A week later, Barnes made an appearance at breakfast, looking fresh and somehow alert after running halfway across the country with Cap and their pigeon friend. Seriously, those two should not look that good after running so much. Wilson, at least, had the decency to look winded. They'd already hit the showers, thank heaven.

They made their way over to the breakfast bar, and when Barton poked his head out from the ceiling to steal a bagel from Barnes' plate, the once-fist-of-hydra didn't even flinch. A vast improvement from his pulling a knife on anyone who made the mistake of moving too fast in his general vicinity. 

Tony did shout a little when his coffee mug was snatched out of his hands, but he would swear unto his dying breath that it was in anger over Barton constantly stealing peoples food and hiding it, and was most definitely not in fear. Never ever in fear. Starks don't feel fear, unless an ex-hydra assassin happens to sit next to them and they can't leave because the kitchen is now the only place that the caffeine can be pocured in the tower.

Heaving a put-upon sigh, he stood to make another cup, and subtly avoided touching Sarge's left arm. It had issues he knew he could fix, but it was hard. To ask to fix it. He wanted to, he really, really, wanted to. But, he also didn't want to be anywhere near it. It was complicated, he wanted to help Barnes, but he also wanted to take the arm and repulsor it into smithereens. He knew what that arm had done, and had been forced later to watch it when they had fallen into Zemo's trap. 

The swell of rage and pain at watching his mom die had only been reigned in by two things; the first, that Steve had told him the truth, and hadn't tried to tell him how to feel or told him what to do about it. Didn't even ask him for help finding him, just let him know that his mom wasn't dead because of his fathers' drunk driving, and who their killer was. The second? Barnes had looked horrified and oh so, so, guilty. Tony had seen that look enough times in the mirror, and smashed enough reflective surfaces to know that placing blame didn't make anything better.

Zemos' plan had failed, because like Hydra before him, he had underestimated the power of fucking friendship. Seriously, Cap went in behind enemy lines in the 40's to save his best friend, (the other 400 were more of a bonus), and he was the special kind of crazy who would do it again. For both of them. He hoped, anyway. Tony hated feelings, and talking about them, but he was glad that they had, otherwise there's no telling who would've ended up dead in that frozen hellhole. And hey, King T'Challa had turned out to be a pretty cool guy.

Barnes hadn't asked for much since moving in, and kept pretty close to Steve, and Natasha for reasons he didn't feel he had any business digging into. The team mostly let him be, and took his episodes in stride. It was a bit crazy, but they all had their own demons to cope and sometimes fight with, and as much as they grated on each other, they tried not to judge. Hence the mini-fridge installed in the vents. He still needed to fix the navigation on that drone so he could clean up there. Barton said he threw out the trash, but if the dirty underwear around the gym are anything to go by, he was a liar.

 

Barnes didn't cause as much chaos as, say, his favorite green-bean, but he did manage to tear through a few of the reinforced punching bags before Tony figured out what he needed to make them ex-Fist-of-Hydra proof, instead of just Super-Spangled-Soldier proof. Thankfully, meals were a relatively safe event, and Barnes kept mostly to himself, occasionally snarking at Cap or Wilson, and it always threw him off-guard, how the sharp wit and mischievous grin seemed so natural on him, and the person underneath the broken programming showed through.

"Hey, Brood-cicle," Tony had an idea, and it was probably one of the most poorly though out plans he's had in the past three months, but he wanted a blueberry muffin, and he wanted to quit being terrified every time they had to be in the same room. "Let's go get lunch later."

Everyone stopped and stared at him like he'd lost his mind. He was used to it. Barnes looked like he was going over the different ways he could kill him with a butter knife and a rasin bagel. 

"Are you askin' me on a date, Stark?" 

Tony scoffed, "Of course not. That would have to mean I paid, and your fat ass eats way too much for that. Your footing your own bill."

Barnes stared at him a little longer, with a little less murder. 

"Sure, but if it's nasty I'm ditching."

"Trust me Ice-Man, it's amazing."

That afternoon, just after the lunch rush, because he didn't want to force Barnes to face that kind of crowd, Tony Stark stepped into the tiny little coffee shop with two Super Soldiers and one flying chicken. The barista, ever unflappable, greeted them with the same kind of bubbly cheer she had just spoken to the elderly woman in front the counter with. 

"Good afternoon, what can I get you guys?"

Barnes seemed taken off guard, if the subltle tightening of his entire body was anything to go by. He also redid his visual sweep of the perimiter, double checking the exits and windows and whatnot. Seriously, he acts like everyone should be running and screaming in terror. Rogers was pondering the menu, and Wilson was eyeing some of the sandwiches behind the glass. Tony stepped forward.

"I'll have another plate of those amazing blueberry muffins of yours, and one Ginormous mug of coffee." 

"Coming right up," she said with a smile, punching buttons. "Is this gonna be all together, or on separate tickets?" 

"Oh no," Tony shook his head. "these two are bottomless pits, they're all paying for their own food." 

The barista laughed, and made a joke about super soldier metabolism keeping them slim. Cap laughed a little, and Barnes relaxed a fraction. Sam made an indignant sound.

"I ain't a super soldier, your still not gonna pay for my lunch?" 

Tony smiled at him, taking his muffin platter and coffee to a corner booth, "Not a chance, chicken dance." 

Rogers and the barista both tried to choke down their laughter, and Barnes managed an eyeroll, so he figured he had diffused some of the tension. But he wanted to make sure.

"Make sure you give 'em the senior discount!"

 

When they all sat down in the corner booth, Barnes took the outside seat next to Steve, with their backs against the wall. The corner they were in gave them a clear view of almost the entire shop, with a fire exit only a few feet away. 

Steve was looking over his receipt, with that scrunched up eyebrow look that usually meant he was confused and worried.  
"What's eating you, Cap? The inflation?" Tony stopped himself from asking if he still had frostbite. Steve had once told the team a little about the nightmares he still had about being frozen, after Barton had dumped some ice down his shirt and America's hero had curled up on the kitchen floor having a panic attack.

He shook his head, blond strands catching the light, "It's not that, she gave me an Avengers discount."

"What?"  
All together, they looked at their tickets. Sure enough, they both had the same discount;

 

Aven Disc -10%

 

Sam looked thoughtful, "Well, it's not bad. I mean, considering the crappy pay we get, I'll take a discount off a ham sandwich."

"I usually just get a veterans discount." Steve still had that scrunched eyebrow thing going, but he couldn't get up and talk to the barista about it, because she was giving directions to a family of tourists looking for the library.

"Why did she give me one?" Barnes voice was so soft and utterly confused, it made Tonys' chest hurt.

"Because you're one of us, Robocop," His dark head snapped up to look at the billionare, his blue eyes were wide with disbelief. He had just barely been cleared to leave the tower chaperoned, and right now having him on the field wasn't even on the table. Tony shrugged, cramming a muffin into his mouth. "guilty by association."

He continued to stare in disbelief, and Tony cursed whatever deity gave him those ridiculous sad blue eyes. He had thought Steve's sad blue eyes were the worst. He had been wrong. 

Slowly, Barnes looked down at his recept and then over to the girl behind the counter. She had smiled at him like he was just a regular person, coming in to get food. Hadn't hesitated to put her hand near his when she handed him the food. He had thought she didn't recognize him, that somehow, despite knowing Stevie and Wilson, and knowing they were Avengers, that she didn't know who he was. Didn't remember. And then, when she had grabbed a marker to label his cup, she looked him right in the eye and said, 

"It's Bucky, right?"

And then she put him down as an Avenger. He remembered fighting on the highway, when he tore out the steering wheel of the car Wilson had been driving, when Natasha had shot him in the eye. He remembered seeing the girl in one of those cars, but the soldier hadn't cared, she was just in the way. So he just put as many rounds through the car as he could to get to his target. 

He had damn near killed her, and yet she looked him in the eye and called him Bucky.


	4. Another Night and Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this silly story I pulled out of my rear is a lot more popular than I thought it would be. Thank you to everyone for commenting and leaving kudos, and I hope you continue to enjoy it.

Bucky was sitting in the room Stark had given him. It was three in the morning, and most of the tower was dead silent. SI security made their rounds on the ground level and the lower floors. JARVIS had given him access to almost all of the security cameras he had access to. He was looking through every database he could hack to find out about the girl. 

She was 'enhanced', and her background was down right boring. Born with powers that doctors didn't find until a few years later, when her family brought her into the ER after drinking three or four different types of cleaning chemicals. She was completely fine, and her parents had refused to have any other tests done. Ten years after that, they packed up and moved, enrolling her in the Xavier School. Her family died in a house fire that he could clearly tell was arson, but the case had been closed less than 72 hours after the "accident". 

She stayed at the school until moving to New York. She had a degree in business and had earned an entrepreneur scholarship that had started the Café. He found the paperwork for the car he'd shot up, and the settlement money had gone into the shop too. Apparently having your car turned into swiss cheese fell under Stark Reliefs' jurisdiction.

 

SHIELD had already done a check on her, right after she started looking at property around the tower. Fury had given the OK, and apparently done some recon himself. He tried to picture the Director of SHIELD sitting in a bean bag chair with a pastry and coffee. He snorted. 

"Go 'head an' close everything down, JARVIS. I'm done for now."

He laid down on top of the made bed, letting the Asset part of him analyze the information. He would never get rid of the Soldier, not completely anyway. It was getting easier though. Barton was making sure he could hear when and where he was coming from when he popped up and around, and he made sure his knives stayed in their pockets. Nat was the same, and after Thors' disastrous attempt at a hug, he made a point of asking before initiating any contact. Banner tended to keep quiet and to himself all the time, but he asked every now and then if Bucky was still okay. Tony actually tried to press his buttons, like he wanted to end up in headlock. Banner told him it was just the billionaires' way of expressing affection. 

"He hates being treated like glass, and refuses to avoid the dangerous things he should."  
They were down in the lab, and he'd been at the tower for two weeks. The arm had locked up, and Tony had jokingly offered to make him a new arm out of aluminum foil, 'to keep it shiny, for the girls,' before telling him to head down and have Bruce look at it.

"Is that why he always tries to piss you off?" 

He was sitting on a stool, the arm propped on a table between them. It was different than the maintenance that had been done with Hydra. He wasn't tied down to anything, and every tool Bruce used with a gentle precision. He wasn't playing around to see what the arm could do or how much he pain he could take. 

Bruce laughed, "Ah, yeah. It's kinda nice though," he looked up at him across the table "not having people scared of me that know about the other guy."

Bucky nodded, but didn't quite understand. He hissed when Banner turned a screw near his shoulder too far, and the doctor swore and apologized, loosening it again. It was the first time someone working on the arm had apologized for hurting him. It was stupid, to cry over that, but Bruce didn't pry too much, and told him he could always stop by if the arm gave him trouble. 

Now, the arm was hurting again, but it was a different kind of pain. The ache wasn't in the metal, but in the bones that were still probably somewhere in that frozen mountain range in Europe. Fuckin' phantom pain. He scowled at the ceiling, and when Barton stopped over the vent in his room, he was resigned to having another sleepless night. 

"You'd better have brought me some fuckin' ranch chips if you're gonna hang out in my ceiling all night."

The vent cover flipped soundlessly open, and the sandy haired spy leaned out with a grin. "I've got some of that beer that Thor brought too." 

Bucky grinned. It was good stuff, and it even had Stevie trying to reenact the stuff from his USO days. The punk still couldn't dance, but it was hilarious to watch him try. Tony had even (drunk) ordered one of the dresses for him. It was enough black mail to keep Stark from having to go to the debriefs for a while.

That morning, the team walked into the common floor to find the counters and table covered in boxes. Muffins, bagels, croissants, pastries, cookies, and a host of other snacks had been carefully crammed into cardboard containers and strewn all over the kitchen. The steaming jugs of coffee were the apparent center piece, and at Steves' exasperated look, Tony just danced around a little with his coffee. 

"Hey, you told me to see if they deliver."

Sam shook his head, grabbing a plate.. "He's got a point man." 

Capsicle gave his pigeon the eyebrows of betrayal. Nat smiled, at him sweetly, "You did tell him to call."

"I didn't mean for him to buy the whole shop!" 

Tony shook his head. "I did not buy the whole shop, but don't hold your breath. I've been trying, she just won't let me yet."

Clint picked up a box of fritters and sat down on the now available counter space. "Peppers' doing good then, keeping you from buying things you don't need."

"Oh no," Tony said, handing Bruce a paper cup. It had a dancing coffee bean character on the sleeve. "Not Pep. I haven't even told Pep I wanna buy it. The barista, she's the one who owns it. She does all the cooking and this fabulous baking," he spread his arms out to indicate the boxes. "and she won't let me make it into a national chain."

The elevator dinged, and Bucky and Thor were two steps into the common area before they did a double take. Tony waved at them from behind the breakfast bar. 

"I brought breakfast! Well, technically it was an intern, but it's here!"


	5. Living Day to Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnd here's a little bit more about the barista. Cheers!

Team Breakfasts were now catered regularly by the shop. Could it be called catering if the food was just shoved into to-go boxes though? Steve wasn't sure, but one thing he did know was that if the young lady who owned the shop did all of the baking herself, they were working her way too hard. 

"Tony," he called, not daring to venture too far into the lab. "Do you have a minute?"

The music was loud and sounded strange to him, but that style of music always inherently reminded him of Tony. The song was about some dame being the singers' cherry pie, which he found ironic. The music cut off, and the genius waved him in with a welding iron. He pushed the goggles up, further musing his already wild curls. 

"What's up Cap?"

Steve took a deep breath, unsure how to start. How was he supposed to tell one of his best friends to stop buying something because he was worried a lady was being overworked? If Peggy were still here, she'd probably shoot him again. Tony stared patiently at him, an eyebrow raised. Steve blew out a breath, and decided to just go for it. He jumped out of planes, he could do this.

"I'm worried about the lady who owns the Cafe."

The easy, laid back expression on Tonys' face disappeared immediately.

"What's wrong? Is she okay?" He was already reaching for the watch that held the Iron Man gauntlet, "If some anti-mutant asshole-" 

"No! No no, nothing like that," Steve put his hand on his arm, squeezing in what he hoped was a reassuringly way. He knew that Howard hadn't been the kind of father he'd hoped his late friend would have been. He just prayed Howard hadn't been as bad as his own father. 

Tony stared at him warily for a moment, before gently stepping back. Steve let his arm fall, and wanted to punch Howard. 

"I'm just worried," he braced his hands on his belt, trying to make himself stand taller. It was something he'd gotten into the habit of since before the serum, back when he'd been shorter than everyone. He still felt like it sometimes. "We've been ordering out from her almost every day, and if she's the one who does all of the baking..."

Tony smiled at him. He got the distinct impression that he was trying not to laugh at him, and tried not to be offended. The 21st century was still strange to him. He'd opened a door for a woman last week at the library and she'd nearly bitten his head off. 

"You think we're working her too hard? Cap, she's getting paid for it, and she is enhanced," he turned back to his project, "she's got some help in there too, it's not just her."

Steve frowned, but he had to admit, he didn't feel as bad if she had other people working with her, he was curious though. He'd expressed his curiosity about her to Nat after he'd seen Tony muttering to himself about getting coffee, and she'd smiled and handed him a file. Clint had laughed at his dumbfounded expression and told him they'd already checked her out before she's bought the property.

"How did you know she was enhanced?" 

Tony shrugged. "She told me."

Steve frowned more. It was considered rude to ask people about their powers, especially with a lot of the anti-mutant sentiment going around. The team knew about each other because it was integral to their working and living together. They were also friends who'd grown to trust each other. 

"Oh don't give me that look, Spangles, I was asking her if she felt safe living so close to us, what with all the surprise parties that the bad guys keep throwing us. She told me she was more worried about her stuff."

He nodded, but now he was worried that Tony had been rude to her. He wasn't rude on purpose. Okay, he was usually rude on purpose, but it was a part of how he coped with being so hated by the media and the public in general. He expected disdain, and his prickly attitude was often what kept him from being hurt. He sometimes had trouble turning it off around the ones he trusted.

Natasha happened to run into her at the supermarket that same day. Meaning she'd been following her and decided to corner her in a public place and question her without making threats of any kind. 

She got in line behind her, standing patiently. She eyed the candy, pretending to have a craving. Nat had only grabbed a hand basket, grabbing some tampons she would never need, two bags of salad mix she would keep in the fridge on the private floor Tony had given her, a liquid foundation and powder set that was just off of her natural coloring enough to be useful on the undercover op she had coming up, and some of the blueberry Pop Tarts Thor liked. She timed herself flawlessly, and was just standing up with Clint's skittles when the girl turned around to pull her cart forward. 

She smiled in surprise, and Nat smiled back, affecting equal surprise. They greeted each other, and she nodded at the piles of flour and sugar. 

"Buying for the shop, I take it?" 

The girl smiled a bit bigger. Her eyes danced with a pride of accomplishment that had nothing to do with conceit. She'd seen that look in Tonys' eyes every time he showed off the updates for their gear. He talked like he knew he was the best at everything, but she'd made it a point to let the team know he needed constant reassurance.

"Yep, things have gotten pretty busy lately, what with tourist season picking up. How's work been going for you?"

Nat smiled a little, pleased at the carefully phrased question.

"It's been good. I've been traveling a lot more lately than usual."

The girl frowned, worried. "Well make sure to be careful, there's been a lot more yahoos out and about." 

Her concern was genuine, and she found the fact that she called international and interdimensional terrorists 'yahoos' deeply amusing.

Nat let her smile go wider, and thanked her for the concern. She was here to investigate though, and she now had built a bit of trust and a baseline. 

"That a school shirt?" She tilted her head, making it seem like she was trying to decipher the old english font. The back had read 'Rolling with the Best', with a set of wheels underneath.

The girl looked down, then smiled up at her again. She was one of those people who smiled often and easily, and her temperament as far as she could tell was an easy one. 

"It's the Xavier Institute, 'Mutatis Mutandis' is the motto." 

The cashier seemed suddenly uncomfortable, and began to rush through the scanning process. 

Natasha nodded thoughtfully. " 'Changing only what needs to be changed'. It must have been hard on your family, sending you away to a boarding school."

Her smile turned sad, and her eyes took on a haunted shadow. 

"It was tough, moving so far from home, but..."

She trailed off, her eyes looking at something from a long time ago. Nat wondered if she was thinking about the fire, or whatever had happened before that caused the move.

"But..?" She prompted.

The girl sighed in resignation. "I made the mistake of telling a guy I was dating, and then he told his friends, and then they told everyone.."

Nat nodded in understanding, the pieces coming together nicely. She'd had a close knit family, and a an average, quiet life despite her mutation, so it couldn't have been anything overly dangerous. She had guessed it to be either social pressure or her whatever her powers happened to be suddenly becoming unmanageable for such a Mayberry-like family to uproot themselves and move over Christmas break. 

The cashier was hurriedly throwing bags back into the cart, avoiding eye contact with them as she sat her basket up on the counter. The girl was nice, and her graduation from the Xavier Institute meant she had a good handle on her abilities. She kept in regular contact with other students and some of the professors. She deserved some honesty, after being lied to about the fire. 

"You're doing good for yourself. I'm sure they'd be proud." 

Her eyes widened at the use of past tense, but she smiled all the same. 

"Yeah, I hope so."


	6. Remodeling Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The Barista is trapped in an inclosed space that she has trouble getting out of, so don't read that section if it may trigger you. (***)

There was, of course, another incident. It happened to be on one of the few nights that Tony had actually gone to sleep at a reasonable hour, and at exactly 5:17 AM the call to Assemble went off. 

He screamed the murderous rage into his pillow, and threw the covers off. If it was another mad scientist, alien warlord, or one of Lokis’ surprises, he was going to put their head on a stick. 

He’d been having a good dream for once, he and Pepper were messing around in the sun on his Yacht, and everyone on the SI board had agreed with the bad guys not to do anything stupid while the two of them were on their vacation. 

He grumbled and swore all the way to the roof, expecting the helicarrier, to be waiting for them. Instead, he found the entire team and Agent Coulson looking just as pissed at being woken up as he was. Clint made several rude gestures to the giant robots peeking out above the buildings. There was probably going to be a renaissance style painting of the New York skyline, a light with fire, sunrise, and giant. Fucking. Robots. 

“Alright team,” Cap called from in front of them. “This isn’t anything new, let’s get this taken care of before they can cause too much damage.”

Clint continued to glower, but notched some of his arrows anyway. They were specially designed for these things, and Tony knew that he kept them stashed throughout the building. It felt like they were fighting these things every two weeks.

“With any luck, we’ll be done in time to sleep in some more.”

Bruce nodded, hunching his shoulders in. “What’s the status on the evacuation?”

Phil spoke up, “We’re clear within several blocks of their immediate vicinity, and we’re in the process of evacuating everyone in their predicted path.”

“Alright,” Tony said, voice coming out a bit deeper through the voice modulator. “Let’s try to keep them in a straight line and knock ‘em out before it’s time for breakfast.”

Rogers nodded, completely serious. “You heard him team, let’s get going.”

They did not get done in time to go back to bed, much to Clint and Tonys’ dismay, but, upon double checking the time, he realized that it was time for their favorite coffee shop to be open, and thanks to the giant robots, they had cleared the morning rush. 

“Alright, everyone good? Yes? Okay breakfast is on me, and since I’m paying, I get to pick.”

“Really Tony?” Bruce sighed over the comms.

The hulk hadn’t been needed too much this time, and apparently they’d been doing some negotiating. Hulking our didn’t take near as much out of the Doc as it used to. 

“Yes, really. And we’re all going to go get muffins. Team bonding exercise. All that jazz.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, her hair still in impeccable order, despite the rest of her looking like she’d just run around in a dirt pile filled with various sharp things. 

“You just want a blueberry muffin.”

Clint piped up next to her “The cinnamon ones are way better!”

“I quite enjoy the strawberry ones myself.” Thor boomed. Nobody but J could see him flinch in the armor, and he was grateful. Thor always made him tense when he got worked up, especially when he didn't have the Iron Man armor on. It wasn't like the team would make fun of him for it, but he still didn’t like people seeing him at less than his best. And he had always hated yelling, it reminded him too much of Howard.

"Here's an idea; lets head over there and do some taste testing. We'll have her keep score."

Steve sighed, but didn't argue. He slung the shield onto his back, and started towards the tower. "Let's pick Buck up first, he wasn't too happy about having to stay home."

Clint nodded, "I'd be pissed too, if I got woke up and couldn't punch the assholes responsible."

Barnes was indeed in a foul mood when they returned, and refused to go anywhere until he had finished yelling about it. He cursed out first the idiot behind the giant robots, the giant robots, Steve, for doing something stupid again, and then the suits in Washington for making him 'sit around with his thumb up his ass' while New York was under fire. 

Steve managed to calm him down, mostly by calling him names and threatening to throw himself from the roof unless he shut up. He was still fuming when they stepped out of the glass fronted doors, but stopped abruptly. 

His face had gone hard, but Steve recognized the wild fear in his eyes. 

"What? Robocop what's-" Tony turned to see what may have triggered the him, praying that the morning's rude wake up call hadn't just been a distraction orchestrated by Hydra. Please don't let the Soldier come out please don't let the Soldier come out pleasedon'tpleasedon'tplease-

There was a pile of rubble. Shattered glass covered the sidewalk and street like snow, with twisted steel poking out of the pile of splintered wood like wild thorns.  
"Sir, my security footage indicates that one person was present when the missile struck the building

They all ran.

She'd been asleep when the window across her bedroom shattered in. At least, she'd thought it was just the window, but then the frame around it started caving in, and then the wall. She'd made a mad scramble out of bed, the sheets tangling around her feet, and they'd felt like hands dragging her back. Then she remembered she was in her bedroom, and her first thought was that she needed to get her brother. He was across the hall and his medicine made him sleep through everything, and she needed to get him out, and meet their parents on the lawn outside, but when she shoved her door it broke off the hinges. 

It was locked. Why did she lock it? She never locked her bedroom door, he forgot to take his medicine so often and he couldn't sleep for all the nightmares he got and where was the door to his room it was supposed to be right across the hall and instead there were stairs and-

He was dead. She stopped at the head of the stairs, staring frozen down the steps while the rest of her house continued to fall around her. He was dead and so were mom and dad and they weren't even buried here. Her Uncle was here in New York, she needed to get-

The wall next to her fell over, and the exposed beam caught her in the head. 

***WARNING***

When she opened her eyes, it was dark, and silent. She was still wearing the necklace she had worn to bed, but the dog tags on it were hanging between her eyes. She was upside down, then. Her legs were bent at the knee, pinned under something. She couldn't see what it was. She needed to get upright, there was no telling how long she'd been like this, and if the blood pooled in her head too much she would need to go to the hospital 

She pulled at her arms, and some of the wreckage on her left shifted. She paused, and then tried her right arm. It was like Jenga, or Pick up Sticks. She managed to free her right arm, and braced it above her head. It was technically underneath, because she was upside down, but right now direction was relative. She pushed, but nothing moved. So she started to pull at her legs. Carefully, slowly, she pried them out. She could feel the steel and wood that trapped her, and had to stop frequently to breathe through her terror. It felt like everything around her was sinking in, getting closer, getting darker, taking away what little air there was. The though of being trapped in here forever scared her, but it she wanted to breath she couldn't let herself cry. 

Her Uncle was already going to be upset, and if someone had to dig her out and then made her go to the hospital he would pissed. He didn't want anyone knowing she was a mutant, and had threatened to have her shipped back to the Xavier School if she caused any trouble. Getting poked at by doctors would be trouble, so she counted her breathing, waited until her heart wasn't pounding quite so fast, and then turned herself over so that the dog tags were resting against her chest, instead of her face. 

She took another minuet to rest, and then started digging up. It was hard, but when things fell on her she let herself curse, and just pulled her hand or her foot, her arm or her leg out from underneath whatever had fallen.

 

It seemed like forever, but eventually she saw a sliver of sunlight, and when she flailed her arm up and around, trying to find something to-anything-grab, someone grabbed her wrist and pulled.

The hand that pulled her was urgent, and she thrust her other arm out, reaching, and another hand grabbed her. This one was slightly smaller, and covered in callouses instead of leather. The splintered wood and metal dug into her as she was lifted and tore at her clothes. She shoved them away with her bare feet, pushing and kicking and trying to get higher.

***END OF WARNING***

The sunlight stung her eyes, and she coughed, the fresh air a sharp contrast to the dust she'd been breathing. The hands set her down gently, and when her eyes adjusted, she saw the Avengers. All of them. They were standing and staring at her like she'd grown a second set of limbs. 

Shit. This was trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the title because I thought it was too close to the title of the last chapter, and kinda lame. :/


	7. Family Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a closer look at the barista and her asshole Uncle, muahahaha. As always, your comments and kudos are appreciated, and give me life. Thank you.

Tony Stark was slumped over the breakfast counter on the common floor, pouting. If she hadn't seen him stumbling across the street looking like he'd been electrocuted at four in the morning, she wouldn't believe he could be this relaxed. She was still having trouble wrapping her head around being in Avengers Tower. 

JARVIS was replaying the security footage from that morning, and they were all crammed into the kitchen munching on Asian takeout. 

"I wanted muffins, and those assholes broke the oven." He whined.

She tried to hide her smile behind the now-cold mug in her hands. It was a tea that Dr. Banner had handed her when they brought her in. She had barely been coherent enough to hold it, caught between the terror of having been stuck underneath her demolished building, and the panic of knowing she was going to have to talk to her Uncle. 

She'd taken a few sips, and when he realized she still wasn't okay, he'd taken the cup out ofer hands and sat next to her on the couch. He talked her through counting and holding her breaths. He sounded a lot like her old therapist, but he seemed much more huggable than the pale, elderly man that she'd gone to see when things at her old school had started going sour. Banner might have even held her hand, but she wasn't sure. 

When she could move again without feeling like everything was going to collapse around her, she'd asked for a phone. Stark, ever the flashy one, had pulled out a Starkphone, and told her to go ahead and beta test it for him. 

"You're going to have to test run it for awhile though," he'd said flippantly "I can't afford to put faulty tech out onto the market."

She'd thanked him, and found another room to make the call in. It...hadn't gone horribly. He'd been watching the news, apparently, because he picked up on the first ring and asked her what the hell she'd thought she'd been doing.  
So she hadn't had to say 'hey, I'm sorry to call you from an unkown number, but my house just got smashed by a giant I-don't-know-what and I had to dig my way out of the rubble because I was an idiot and turned off the National-Alerts on my phone but right now I'm hanging out with the Avengers and I don't have anywhere to stay.'

They got to skip all that and he went straight into cursing her up and down, cursing the Avengers, the giant robots, SHIELD, and anything and everything under the sun. He didn't bring up sending her away until he asked about Stark.

"How much of a tantrum is he going to throw if you're not there making him breakfast?"

She stood in the middle of the empty guest room, trying to think of a polite way to say it wasn't a big deal to him. Telling her Unle that the one of the greatest minds of the century was sulking in his own kitchen wouldn't earn him any brownie points..

"Don't try to tell me he won't; it's Stark. And everyone knows they go to that little play-house of yours. He's all over the news, and if he's stuffing his face with something, it has your logo on it." 

"He offered to make it a national chain." She blurted and then wanted to kick herself. 

Her Uncle sighed, "Of course he did. He has to have control of everything he likes, because he-"

She hung up on him. Her breathing was harsh and loud in the empty space, and it felt like the walls were inching closer again. The phone rang. She thought about just ignoring him, but it was pointless. It would only irritate him, and give him another reason to have her shipped off. It wouldn't matter that she was an adult, Human Rights didn't apply to Mutants. 

She answered it, but steam-rolled right over whatever he was saying, her voice was little more than a raspy hiss, the crying and the dust made talking hurt.

"The Avengers just pulled me out from under two floors worth of rubble, and have been nice enough not to shove me in an ambulance or have their own doctors poke at me with needles and scalpels to see how I tick. The least you can do is shut up and get me a bed for a few nights before shipping me off like a freak to an asylum and pretending to the world I don't exist."

The line was quiet, and she could hear a phone ringing in the background, copy machines peeping and whirring, muffled voices. He was at work, just like he always was. 

He sighed, but if he felt bad he didn't let on. Sometimes she wondered what had happened to the gentle, loving Uncle who'd come visit every Christmas and Thanksgiving and help her crack eggs and laugh when they licked the spoons and got batter all over their noses. He never smiled anymore. 

"I don't like you being that close to them, you know that."

He sounded more exhausted than angry now, but it didn't make her feel any better.

"And you know that the only thing that could get broken was whatever building I happened to be in. It's gonna take more than this to hurt me," she argued. It wasn't a strong argument, but it was the best she had at the moment.

"And if you end up buried too deep to dig your way out?" He countered. "What then? There isn't always going to be someone there to save you. A pile of rubble might just end up being your damn tombstone."

He had a point. It was a scary thought, and she'd been sure that would be her fate today. But she wasn't going to concede that easily. 

"They'd hear my stomach growling eventually." The forced levity in her voice renewed his vigor, and she smiled. Listening to him curse a blue streak was something that had never changed, at least. While he ranted, she thought back to the time they'd been too busy playing to pay attention to the oven, and hadn't remembered until the smoke alarm had gone off. 

He'd pulled out smoking black lumps, swearing and telling her to get out of the way. The edges of the paper they'd put on the baking tray had turned black, and one of the corners had a little flame on it. She'd giggled, watching him dance around the oven like the fire did on the paper. It reminded her of the candles mom lit after dinner when it was time for her brother and her to go to bed and sleep so that Santa could come. It also kind of reminded her of her daddies lighters, but he hadn't had any cigarettes since Halloween.

Back in the living room, Tony Stark was fuming. They hadn't been able to keep all of the robots in line. Which wasn't unusual, shit happened that couldn't be controlled. Not everything went according to plan, blah blah blah, everything Steve and Rhodey and Sam and his therapist kept telling him. But they'd almost killed her. They'd probably killed other people too. 

Some of the smaller robots had been fanning out, spreading across the city, and they'd been so focused on the big ones that when they crushed the little ones, they hadn't been there when they got back up again. Tony had been so fed up with them, and tired of the whole team yelling in his ear while his head had been pounding with caffiene withdrawl, that he'd had J fire an arc-reactor friendly EMP to be done with it all. 

Tony watched the robot heading for the tower, and the time on the lower right hand of the screen kept ticking, and when it matched the time on the EMP launch, the robot stopped, seeming frozen, wobbled, and then began to fall. 

It caught the corner of the shop, it's shoulder folding in a second story window like it was paper. There was a shadow of movement in the next window, and then it all came down like a house of cards.

Steve pulled him away from the hologram towards the couch. He didn't try to hug him, not wanting to risk touching the reactor when his friend was like this, but he did wrap an arm around his shoulders.

"It wasn't your fault Tony, you didn't do anything wrong, she's fine, no one got hurt, you did the right thing..."

It was a litany of assurances he only half heard over the roaring in his ears. He was too dangerous to be around. It wasn't safe to be near him. Everyone he cared about ended up hurt, and hell, she barely even knew him, but just living across the street from him was enough to put her in harms way and all he did was buy coffee from her and tell jokes and all she did was make him muffins and tease him almost like Rhodey did and she'd been buried under a pile of rubble like the Maximoffs' had been and when he'd seen her arm sticking out he couldn't feel anything and he'd been sure when Cap had grabbed the slim wrist and pulled they'd have a severed arm and they'd have to wait until the clean up crew came to dig out the rest of her mangled body and-

His face hurt, and he wasn't staring over Steve's shoulder anymore, he was looking at the elevator. He looked up, and Natasha was pulling her arm back to her side, glaring. She'd just slapped him. 

"Quit thinking like that Tony. She's fine."

He opened his mouth to argue, but Barnes shook his head and stood up, walking over to stand next to her. 

"She's right. The girl is fine, and you said yourself that she knew what she was getting into and didn't care." Barnes had the same stubborn look on his face that Steve did. It just pissed him off.

"She's an innocent person who got hurt because I can't keep myself in check!" He shouted.

Steve winced, wishing he knew how to help. He had hoped they were past this. He didn't want to argue about the Accords again.

The elevator chimed, and they all looked up to watch her come back in. She stopped a few feet from the elevator and stood there, fidgeting. 

"So, uh, good news? My Uncle isn't going to have me shipped back of to the Xavier School." She gave an awkward thumbs up, like she had given Clint the day he'd left behind his hearing aids and had gone down to get coffee. Her finger spelling wasn't terrible, but pointing and gesturing had been faster. "Bad news is he's not going let me rent a hotel while I wait for the shop to get fixed."

Stark was looking at her like he'd accidentally kicked her puppy.

"He's uh, making me stay with him."

They all stared at her, with varying degrees of confusion and worry. Shit, maybe they'd been listening to the phone call. That wouldn't go over well if he found out. It would be easy for them to do it, with the AI Stark had in the tower and the Starkphone she was pretty sure he wouldn't ever let her give back. 

Tony was about to ask why on Earth she thought she couldn't stay with them when Clint stood up, loudly complaining about being hungry and craving sushi.


	8. A Bridge (maybe) not Burned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long, life's been busy. Here's another chapter, let me know what you think! :)

"...and in other news, the Avengers are continuing to harbor James Barnes, despite the multiple allegations of his continued support of HYDRA and public concerns regarding his mental stability and fitness to be in the field. When reached for comment, Captain Steve Rogers had this to say,"

The news switched over to a shot of the front of the Avengers Tower, and Rogers looked irritated at having been accosted by the news crews. He had at least seven paper bags of groceries in his hands, and the plaid button up was neatly tucked into his slacks.  
The reporters kept yelling and flashing their cameras, and he had to shout to be heard over them. 

"For the last time, Bucky isn't-"

The screen went black. Her uncle put the remote neatly back down on the coffee table, and kept munching on his cereal. She glared at him, and strongly considered dumping her own bowl of cereal on him. He would probably just sigh, and then she'd wake up one morning and find every box of cereal super glued to the ceiling. 

They were both on the couch, feet propped up and crossed exactly the same way, his feet already stuffed into the most uncomfortable looking shoes ever. Normally she would be barefoot, but he kept the apartment too cold for that, so she had settled for a pair of colorful socks. He was dressed for work already, and even though it was only 8:45 in the morning, he'd still had to pull some strings to take even a few hours off to spend with her. Yesterday had been spent digging through what was left of the shop for some of her personal stuff, dumping it in a duffel bag, and fending off the Avengers well meant meddling. Her uncle may not be the most pleasant person to be around these days, but he was the only family she had left, and as much as she loved her friends back at the Institute, they weren't a part of her life from before things went to hell.

Her uncle stood up, belched, and went to put his bowl in the sink. He rinsed it, and headed back towards the front door. He ruffled her hair as he passed by the couch, and if he noticed he'd done something he hadn't in years, he didn't let on. He grabbed his jacket from the coat hanger next to the door, throwing it on.

"I'll be out all day, and given the way none of the idiots there can read a sheet of paper, I'll probably be at the office all night too."

She rolled her eyes, partly in annoyance, and partly to hide her watering eyes. "Well, if you're going to be out that late fixing papers that someone else screwed up, why not ask that cute secretary of yours to help you, so you can maybe go on a date like normal people."

He glared at her. "I don't have a secretary, and I don't have time for dates."

"You would if you actually made time for one. And I know there's someone up there in that building you're interested in. The only thing I don't know is the name."

He turned his back, shaking his head. "You should work more on knowing less about people."

 

The kitchen was quiet, and despite the cool, damp morning air, she was sweating. Her uncle made it clear that he didn't care what she did, as long as she stayed indoors. She'd discreetly rolled her eyes and handed him a lunch bag. Hopefully the mini-lemon bunt cake would lighten him up a bit. She even put in an extra one for the secretary he didn't have.

Being stuck indoors usually lead to baking, and what little counter space there had been, was now covered in cakes, pies and muffins that she would probably turn into cupcakes later. She didn't usually do a lot of work with icing, because she had a tendency to become laser-focused and spend so much time decorating that she fell behind on other orders. Now, though, with no shop, there weren't any orders to get behind on.

It was driving her nuts. She was never the kind of person who could surf the internet or the television for hours on end. Fifteen minuets into sitting still, and she had this itching, crawling feeling under her skin and in her muscles. She'd fidget, squirm and pick at her nails, the threads in her clothes, anything that let her move at least a little. It used to be her biggest problem in school, until she'd made the mistake of opening up to her blabber-mouthed ex. 

She wondered if some of his friends had been responsible for what happened, but the pain of loosing her whole family in a night, along with the rampant phobia of mutants left her frozen. They were murdered, and finding out who set the fire and sealed the exits wouldn't bring them back. No court would've convicted them anyway. You could tout murder through the streets, and as long as you talked about murdering the right people, you'd be applauded. 

Her eyes were watering again, and with a curse, she grabbed a towel and scrubbed them away. She was a believer in divine justice, and whenever karma decided to run those fuckers over, she'd be driving an eighteen-wheeler.

That night, she had finally managed to settle herself down somewhat, and popped in an old french movie she'd found in her uncles' room. It was harder to read the subtitles upside down, but she could kick her legs around without ramming her shin into the coffee table. And three weeks after having dug herself out of the shop, she'd noticed she had developed a fear of being upside down. Which sucked, because she loved amusement parks, and had made plans for Coney Island before her shop got turned into a pancake. She was going to go, and she wasn't going to let herself keep being afraid of being upside down, dammit. 

She just had to convince her uncle to let her off of house arrest, which would be easier if he were home. He'd texted her to complain about the lunch she'd made him, and said that putting that much dessert was a waste of food and poor planning on her part. She'd told him that it wouldn't be if he shared it with the not-secretary he didn't have, and didn't hear from him for the rest of the day. It was a win.


	9. Classic Thank You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some more fluff, while I try to figure out how to get to the climax of this story, and thank you again to everyone for leaving comments, kudos, and reading my work. I couldn't do it without you guys. :)

Tony was elbow-deep in the chassis of an Ironman suit, trying valiantly not to worry about the young woman whos' home he destroyed in a fit of exasperation. It wasn't the first time he'd destroyed someone's livelihood with his tech, and it was far from the worst that he'd done being careless with his weapons. The weight in his chest was far more than a metaphor, after all, his little night-light being just one of many sources of his nightmares. He was still pissed about not being able to enjoy the beach anymore.

He could guess that she was probably having nightmares too. Twelve bucks said they were about being trapped in rubble, and giant robots with STARK IND. painted on them in big white letters. Or he could just be projecting. He had a habit of doing that. Cap had told him that for her it was a matter of pride and some other stuff, her turning down the teams help. His help. He was trying not to take it personally, really, he was. But he didn't know what else to do, other than shit out some money and have everything better than it was before. He threw money at things and people because it was easier than feelings. Pepper told him it had something to do with love languages, which had been nice to hear. It was different than the usual 'Tony Stark has no feelings' spiel. 

Right now he was bouncing between frustration, depression, and worry. He wanted her here so he could make sure she was okay, he was pretty sure she hated him now for ruining her business and almost killing her, and he had eavesdropped on her half of the conversation she'd had with her Uncle that day. J wouldn't let him listen to both sides, but she'd been more terrified talking to him than she had been when the team had pulled her out. Forcing her away from her home to the Xavier Institute had been a real threat, apparently, and to be shipped off and have the only family you had act like you didn't exist? The guy was a bastard to try it. 

He wouldn't let him. He'd had SI fight for Mutants workers' rights in his own company before, it was probably time to take it further, make it a constitutional amendment or something. 

He didn't realize anyone else was in the lab until the music cut off. He jerked his head up, relaxing a fraction when he saw that it was Steve and Bucky. 

"America's Golden Duo," he called, rolling his stool away from the bench. "What can I do for you?" 

The two of them shared a look, then turned to him. Robocop had a smug look on his face, and then pulled a box from behind his back. Tony stared at it, dumbfounded. Steve had two cardboard cartoons in his hands as well, but the longer the silence stretched, the more worried he became. 

"Tony..?"

The genius continued to stare, until something clicked, and he burst to his feet, knocking over the stool and scaring one of his bots. 

"MUFFINS!" He yelled. 

The super soldiers started laughing, and even DUM-E started dancing, spinning and waving an oil rag over his head. 

They made him come up to the common floor before they let him have one, but when the elevator opened, the rest of the team was there with more boxes, and every face lit up when they saw him. It made his chest feel heavy in way that still hurt, but it was a different kind of hurting. 

Sam waved him over, "Come on, Coca-Cola can, we've been waiting on you." 

Tony was too happy to even dignify that with a response. He all but ran to the table to open his box, and Bruce chuckled, handing him a mug of coffee. 

"I thought it would be months before I got to taste this again." 

Clint nodded, "Yeah, me too. She came buy earlier to drop these off though. Said it was a thank-you for helping her dig her stuff out." 

Thor hummed in agreement. "It is a practice I did not think I would find here, but I am glad to see that gratitude can still be shown in the same way it is in Asgard." 

"It's a little old-school," Steve seemed a bit sheepish, "it was nice of her. I still feel like we should have done more, though."

"Oh no," Tony pointed an accusing finger at him. "You told me not to feel bad because she said she didn't want help. If I can't feel bad than neither can you."

Bucky looked at him, smiling. "You've got a point there, Stark." 

Steve shook his head in defeat. "I'm never going to win with you, am I Tony?"

Tony grinned, "Nope." and if beating Steve at something made his fathers' voice a little less loud in his head, it wasn't anyone else's business but his own.

"I don't suppose either of you three super-spies have been able to dig up any solid information on that uncle of hers?"

They shook their heads. So far, all they knew was that he had a permanent address in New York, and was rarely in the apartment he owned. Most of his time was spent either at his place of employment or traveling for work. 

Barnes shook his head, scowling haven't even been able to figure out where the hell the guy works. It's like he's a ghost or some shit." 

Nat raised an eyebrow at him from across the table. "Ghosts can be real," 

She called him something in Russian, and it had sounded affectionate, but coming from her it could have been the opposite. Bucky planted his elbow on the table- seriously, they were all animals- and pointed his fork at her menacingly. 

"Look here missy," and he launched into a tirade that started in Russian, went to German, and skipped over to something else he couldn't name, and he caught only a few sentences that had been in Italian. It was something about a mission that hadn't gone right and ended up with the bad guy dead in the wrong spot and the wrong way. Bucky still hadn't been cleared for field ops, and Tony didn't want to know when or how they'd ended up on a mission together. 

Everyone was here now, and not trying to seriously murder anyone, and they had muffins and caffeine. Life was good


	10. Along Came a Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha finds some new information, and Steve is being Captain America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray! A new chapter! I'm sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy it. Comments and Kudos are always appreciated.

Fury wasn't pleased to find out that the Avengers had let a civilian into the tower without proper security clearance. In fact, he was livid. Tony wondered if he'd actually lost his eye yelling at people. He was screaming now, and it looked like his one good eye was about to pop out of his head. 

On the hacked security feed, Coulson was standing across from the Director, waiting serenely for him to finish. It was startling. Agent could stare down anything without so much as cracking a frown. He'd been the same calm and collected even after Loki stabbed him. 

When Fury paused to take a breath, Coulson pushed the paper bag on the desk towards him. 

"You really should try it. Her new recipe is amazing. It'll be good for your blood-pressure too."

 

The cackling of the others behind him drowned out the Directors' response, and Clint even threw popcorn through the holoscreen. It dissipated into tiny fragments, and Jarvis took the opportunity to bring up the security feed from the ross the street. 

The frame of the of the shop was coming up nicely, and the bright yellow and orange of the Stark Relief vests reflected in the sun. Everyone there was a volunteer from the local chapter, except for Cap in his bright red-white-and-blue. He stuck out so obnoxiously it was endearing. Tony really wanted to design gear that was a little less tacky, but the Iron Man armor was far from subtle, so he decided not to say much. Besides, the day that Rogers gave up that getup would be the day Tony showed him the Halloween pictures from the one year Jarvis had been able to sneak him out for trick-or-treating. He'd been six, and made the costume himself, with some help from Ana. He'd been the only kid with a shield that wasn't plastic, and it was probably still in a box somewhere in the old mansion. Jarvis had liked to keep things like that, for some reason.

A brown delivery truck drove up to the construction site, pulling him out of his reminiscing. The driver got out, dumped a box on the sidewalk just outside the taped off area, and then was back in the truck before anyone could stop him. 

A couple of the volunteers fell over themselves laughing, and Steve appeared somewhat baffled. He carefully picked up the box, examined it, then set it aside and went back to work. Tony figured good ol' Steve would want to keep it so they could make sure she actually got it. 

"J, leave a message for our favorite coffee queen, would you? Let her know her table came in."

"Certainly."

Clint looked at him curiously. "You know she ordered a table?"

Tony shrugged. "We got to talking one morning, she mentioned she was going to do some rearranging and whatnot, get a POW MIA table and all that jazz."

Clint nodded, and shoved another handful of popcorn in his mouth. Natasha had a thoughtful look on her face, one that made her eyes light up in a way that usually only Clint or Agent could do. 

"Did she say why?"

Tony brought up some schematics for her Widow Bites, and began thumbing through them. He answered her, only half paying attention.

"Said more people needed to remember what happens, and what their right to be an asshole cost. She also mentioned her uncle had been a POW too, but he doesn't like to talk about it."

Her eyebrows popped at that. "Did she say where?"  
"Nope. She- ah ha! There's where the bug is. Was that a pun? Or does it not count for arachnids? J, which is it?"

"It is a terrible pun, Sir, regardless.." JARVIS answered dryly.

Tony made a wounded noise, and started ranting at his AI. Natasha sighed, and left. It was frustrating that the one person who could get the most information out of the girl was also the one to be the most easily side-tracked. It was even more irritating that all he seemed to do was ask her straightforwardly, and get a straight answer back. She went to her room, and paced. All of her training, all of the years she'd spent working in spinning underground pipelines of information, and she had so far found out nothing, and yet here was Tony Stark, with no subterfuge, no underhanded manipulations, asking blunt questions and getting more information in a week than she had in months. It made her want to stab something. 

This wasn't an assassination though, and Fury had given her orders to keep a watch on her, and make sure she didn't get involved in any of the Avengers' business. Bringing her to the Tower had been.....unplanned. Fury had not been happy, and as much as he was yelling at Phil, he had been just as cold and silent went she spoke to him an hour after they'd put her in a cab to her Uncles'. 

The hard, simple, "Don't let it happen again.", still had her stomach in knots. She'd double and triple checked all of the files Jarvis kept, checked the inventory in Tonys' lab, swept the entire tower for bugs, and come up with nothing. The Tower was clean, and she hadn't wandered any farther than a private room for that phone call, and the bathroom just off the common floor kitchen. 

She'd just barely beat Steve to the lobby when she showed up the second time, already accepting the food and about to turn her away when he saw her and invited her up. It took everything she had not to kick him in the teeth. Luckily, the girl declined, and insisted that she had to get back before her uncle realized she had left the apartment. It was a disaster narrowly avoided, and for all that she seemed innocent, Fury was adamant that she be kept under watch. They still hadn't figured out the uncle yet, but Tony had just given her a piece she needed. She smiled to herself, and climbed up and through the vents. She passed Clint on her way out, and he waved at her with a half-eaten granola bar. His farewell was muffled by the other half.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I do read comments, I just don't always have the time to log in and mark them as read or reply to all of them. They're always appreciated.


	11. Not in Kansas Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Clint take some time to think about where they used to be and where they're not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for taking the time to read this, it means a lot to me. Thanks to everyone for commenting and leaving kudos, and everyone for being patient for updates. Enjoy! :)

Natasha was furious, pacing her room in the tower barefoot and twitchy. She'd dug every file SHIELD, the US Government, every first second, and third world government had, and found nothing. She'd cross referenced every scrap of information about Prisoners of War in the past 70 years that had been brought back to the states within the past thirty, both officially and unofficially, and not a single one of them matched with anything they knew about the girls' uncle. Hell, they'd known more about the Winter Soldier before the attack on SHIELD than they knew about this man. They didn't even have enough to make a ghost story. 

Tailing her hadn't yielded any results either. She rarely left the apartment her uncle put her in, and the man was never there. Ever. She and Clint had staked it out for almost two weeks before Fury eventually called it off, and told them to get some damn sleep. Not once had they gotten a visual, and the bugs they'd planted hadn't picked anything up other than the girl muttering to herself while she baked, laughing at television, and swearing when she dropped something heavy on her foot and slipped getting out of the shower. Not once had she sounded upset or distressed in the least about the lack of contact with her uncle. 

A knock at her door yanked Natasha out of her thoughts, and she carefully smoothed over her face as she went to answer. 

It was Barnes. Dressed in a loose sweatshirt and jeans, with his hair down. There was a hard edge to his eyes, and, like always, he seemed to see right through her. 

"I need a sparring partner." 

It wasn't a question, and he knew that she had energy she needed to burn. His shoulders were a tense line, and he stood planted like wall in her doorway. Something was bothering him too, but whatever it was, they likely wouldn't talk about it. Maybe after they'd both been bruised and beaten, they would talk, when they had no energy to keep their barriers up.

"Of course." 

They made their way to the gym in a heavy silence, and didn't speak until an hour and a half later, when their clothes were sticky with sweat, and they could taste blood.

"I feel like I'm failing." 

Barnes stared at her through his hair, heaving. He said nothing for what seemed like forever. 

"No one is going to punish you." 

Her eyes burned, and she hated how easy it was for him to see what she feared, but he'd been in the Red Room with her, for a time. He's been there when she was set to impossible standards, and been there when she didn't meet them. 

"This isn't the Red Room, and Fury won't hurt you if you can't do something. He won't let anyone hurt you, either."

Her throat felt tight, and she swallowed back a sob, nodding. It was true. Fury had never punished her for a failed mission, or for not being able to get information that they needed. Neither had Phil, or Clint, for that matter. It was just hard to remember that her childhood was no longer her reality. 

Barnes wrapped her in a tight hug, then left. He didn't tell her what he had come down there for, but the tightness in his shoulders had eased, so it could wait.

Later that evening, the team had gathered around the living room for dinner. It was one of the rare nights where Tony himself cooked, and the lasagna was heavenly. Steve Bucky, and Thor each had a pan of their own, and there were a half dozen bottles of wine on the coffee table. Clint had never once imagined that he'd be sitting in a living room full of superheroes and legends, drinking a wine that cost six figures out of an old jelly glass, wearing pajamas and watching a documentary on space. 

But somewhere along the line he'd made friends and a family of sorts. Tony Stark was a guy with money who was more comfortable throwing it at friends, than talking, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were a couple of kids from the Great Depression, and Bruce Banner didn't like action movies, and it was his turn to pick. Thor was commenting quietly about stars and other planets that he'd seen or been too, and Bruce told him about the makeup of different planets and light moving through space and a bunch of other science stuff he didn't understand. Tony was getting in on the conversation too, and Clint just leaned back against Nat and listened. It might as well have been a foreign language for all he could understand. Steve caught his eye made and rolled his eyes. They both laughed, and it was nice not to be the only one who didn't get it. 

No one here thought he was an idiot for not understanding, and no one stared the few times he'd had to be out without a shirt on. Tony had asked him once, why he kept hiding food. His quickly mumbled "habit", had been answer enough, apparently. Stark had never had to worry about food growing up, but he didn't give him a hard time about it. Finding the first min-fridge stocked with his favorite snacks kind of made him loose it, just a little. Nobody could hear him crying in the vents though, so it was fine. Judging by the way Tony reacted to Thor hugging him, he'd been starved in a different way. Thor just made it a point to hug him more.

After the documentary was over, Sam stood up and started gathering dishes. Tony made an offended noise when he tried to take his, but Bucky just grabbed his arm and wrestled the delicate crystal out of his hand. Tony held onto his angry pout for all of five seconds before he burst into laughter, pointing at the wine spilled over Wilsons' shirt.

"Ah, stick a cork in it." Sam chuckled, heading to the kitchen. 

"We'd better," Steve called, "or you'll make a bigger mess." 

Yeah, Clint thought laughing, no one was gonna judge him here.


	12. Hello, Relative I don't Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Barista recounts how she met her uncle, and Bucky does his breathing exercises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe that this was supposed to be a one or two chapter story? I don't know what happened, but I'm rolling with it.

The shop was finally finished. For the most part anyway.There were still light fixtures and coffee machines and whatnot to put in, but it had walls and a roof, and an extended pantry room that Natasha and Thor were currently helping to stock. Steve was currently on a mission with Clint, who would probably be pouting about not being able to help. This was a much better distribution of their skills, however. Clint had said before that he wasn't any good at spy stuff, and Steve was an awful liar. Natashas' assignment was still to keep digging for information about the girl and her family. Thor just enjoyed helping and showing off his strength, so he was technically on a mission.

"I really appreciate this, you guys," The barista said, wheeling another flat cart of flour into the room. "But you guys didn't have to." 

"Nonsense," Thor argued, "it is our duty to be of aid."  
She gave him a doubtful look, biting her lip. "I'm sure there are more important things for you two to be doing than this."

"Nay, there is nothing more important than helping those we are sworn to protect."  
She seemed taken aback by the vehemence in his tone, and looked at Natasha questioningly. 

"He's right, it's what the Avengers are for."  
She sighed, smiling a little. "Well, I can't argue with that logic. I don't suppose there were any community service organizations on Asgard?" She asked, turning to Thor.

His whole face lit up even brighter than it usually did, and he launched into a tale about a club he and his brother had been a part of in high school.  
They carried on a conversation for the better part of an hour, when Natasha heard her mention her time at the VA.

"...I did that for a few years, nothing major, but it felt good to give back a little to the people who'd given up just about everything for the country." 

She saw her opportunity and took it.

"Tony mentioned that your uncle's a veteran."

The girl nodded. "Yeah, he doesn't like to talk about it. Mom thought he was dead, and never mentioned him at all. Then one day this scary looking man I'd never seen before knocks on the door and my mom just lost it."  
\------------------  
She remembered that day, it was the first time she'd ever seen her mother cry. The man on the porch looked terrifying, but she knew- even at seven- that scars didn't make someone a bad guy, bad guys could look like anyone. But the black bag he had looked really scary, and she was afraid he would take a gun out and hurt them, but then mom had come around the corner, already yelling at her about opening the door without a grownup. It was kind of a blur after that, but mom was crying and hugging him, and then he was sitting on their couch looking really tired and like he didn't feel good. 

He sat there quietly, just staring at the child staring at him from across the room. His little niece. She was watching him warily, body tensed and ready to spring the moment he made a move she didn't like. The steel in her eyes reminded him of his mother.

"There anything to snack on around here?" He wasn't good with kids, had decided not to have any of his own. As far as ice-breakers went, it could have been worse.  
And he hadn't been able to eat anything sugary in months, and the sweet tooth he had was screaming at him. The little girls' eyes widened, but she stood up readily. 

"We have cookies."

"Good. Bring me some then."

She scowled at him then, crossing her arms and keeping her feet planted. The defiance in her eyes was a kind that only children could muster. They stared at each other for several minuets until he finally caved.

"Please." He added, forcing back an eye-roll.

She nodded once, appeased, and then spun on her heel to the kitchen.

"Don't say a word." He snapped at his sister. 

She was just coming down the hallway with a sleepy toddler in her arms, and had been in time to watch. She just grinned at him as she sat down, arranging the little boy on her lap.

"She's a rule follower, that one. Her teacher said she makes sure everyone else is following them too."

He put his face in his hands at that. "She's not going to like me much then."  
\-------------------  
"Friend? Friend?" Thor called. 

The barista shook her head, and smiled at them apologetically. 

"Sorry, I kind of spaced out there."

"That's alright," Natasha said softly, handing her a tissue. She didn't know that she'd been crying until then. 

"It must be hard," Nat continued," your family sounds like everyone was really close."

Close enough to move halfway across the country with her, instead of shipping her off by herself. Xaviers' was a boarding school after all.

"We were," she mumbled, wiping at her eyes. "My uncle and I were practically joined at the hip when he came to visit, and now it's-it's like he can't stand being near me. Ever since my van got trashed, he's been avoiding me, pushing me to go back the Institute, and I just- I just don't understand WHY."

"When did your van get wrecked?" Tony asked, approaching the counter. Bucky was right behind him, looking pale and shaken. Tony looked mildly pissed off.

"Oh, hey guys." She called, giving them a watery smile. "and it's nothing, just complaining about my uncle."

Stark scowled. "This is the uncle who threatened to send you to the Xavier School after this place got flattened? Who apparently started pushing you away after you lost a vehicle, which makes no sense to me, because cars get totaled everyday."

The barista shrugged, then shook her head, absentmindedly rubbing at the dog tags around her neck.

"I don't think it was the van getting trashed, I think it was more that I was in the Van when it happened."

Stark looked confused, which would have been funny, if Bucky didn't feel like throwing up.

"What? It's not like I've invented self driving cars yet, car accidents happen all the time-"

Bucky flinched at that, but he didn't notice.

"-so what the hell happened?"

Everyone turned to her expectantly, and in the silence Bucky fought back panic. It was his fault, it was all his fault, he almost killed her and he'd already killed Tonys' parents and now he'd ruined a family and-he took a deep breath. And another. And one more. He kept breathing, long and slow like Bruce and his therapists had shown him.  
The girl had never acted like she hated him, had never flinched away from him in disgust or fear. She acted like he was just another Avenger and he needed to remember that. Even if she was about to tell his friends that he'd almost killed her, just for being in the way. ( He thinks he may have done almost the same thing to Natasha, once before, but it was a Soldier memory and he didn't want to know.)  
The girl sighed, and walked over to the temporary coffee machine that had been set up.

"If you guys are insistent that I spill my whole sob story, then we're going to need caffeine."

She poured out mugs and passed them around, not seeming to notice or care that it was his left hand that took the cup from her. He nods at her wordlessly, and sets it down on the counter. He doesn't want to break it when the truth comes out.

"So," she starts, sitting on the corner of the counter on his 9, "about the time the Trieskelon fell, I was in the area, doing all the tourist stuff..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more dialogue heavy than I planned, but I thought it would be nice to do the Uncles' perspective.


	13. Not an Update

I'm thinking of doing a complete overhaul and rewriting this story, or just leaving it as is, because in all my infinite wisdom I didn't realize how many plot holes I put in here, and the ending I'm going for won't work with how it's already been written, so I'll leave it up to you guys. Let me know in the comments what you want or how you want the story to go (I know there have been mentions of more Steve Dad) so I can wrap it up. Thanks again to everyone for taking the time to read this AU!


End file.
